Heaven Pt3
by annastern2009
Summary: Red-rimmed chocolate eyes stayed glued to the door of the house he had been to so many times before. Almost all of those times, though, had been happy memories. To say he was scared to go in there now was an understatement; Steve/Tango


Red-rimmed chocolate eyes stayed glued to the door of the house he had been to so many times before. Almost all of those times, though, had been happy memories. To say he was scared to go in there now was an understatement. After a week of being home alone, drinking whenever he could to get the pain to ease, to be able to sleep, he had gotten used to the fact that he wouldn't see Steve again. The other had left, after all! Had told him that he couldn't do this anymore. So a week later he calls? _"Tango.."_ The way his stomach had tightened when he heard his name spoken was almost embarrassing. Why couldn't he be strong and not let that voice get to him? He couldn't only think of one word, but he refused to say it. No, it wasn't that, because it wasn't returned.

"_Look, I know what I did was fucked up. But I just.. I need to see you, to explain. Can you drive down here, please?"_

Oh god, how he had wanted to say no, to say 'You left me, remember? You can't expect me to just up and drive to see you'. Had he been able to? No, of course not. No matter how long they were apart, the week that it was, or if the call had come in a year, he knew that he would always do what Steve wanted him to. He loved him, and it wasn't going to change. Besides, the chance to see his angel again, to know that his own personal heaven was still out there somewhere was too good to pass up. So what if he looked like crap, or if this was just a final good-bye. He had to do it, he had to see him. Taking in a deep breath through his clenched teeth, Tango reached out, slowly opening the car door and slipping out. His hands dipped into his pockets, not bothering to wipe his cheeks. There was no point, the moment he saw the other, the tears would start to fall again. Taking his time, he moved up to the door, only taking his hand out of his pocket long enough to knock on the wood.

It only took about a second for the door to open, and he felt his heart stutter for a moment, before it went into overdrive. Steve looked horrible, and that was putting it nicely. His eyes were swollen and red, his stubble that he normally kept pretty short and neat had grown longer than he had seen it. The shirt he had on was wrinkled, and yet, he couldn't help but think how beautiful the man was. What the hell was wrong with him?

"Tango, I'm.. I'm glad you came. Here, come on in."

With a deep swallow, keeping his mouth shut, he shuffled awkwardly into the house. The click of the door closing almost made him wince, his weight going from one foot to the other. Dave hadn't felt like this around Steve for four years now. The first day he met the guy, on that investigation in Rhode Island TAPS had came to help him and Ray with, he had been incredibly nervous to meet the team. He had heard so much about them, watched the first season of the show. It didn't help that Steve, the one they had paired him up with for the night, had almost the exact job he wanted: Tech manager, wanted on the team, insightful, and the one that people seemed to trust. It intimidated him, working with the guy. Intimidated him so bad that he had dropped his flashlight a few times, stumbling over his words more often than normal.

His mind came back to the present when he felt the hand fall down onto his shoulder. This time, he couldn't help it. He flinched to the side, his jaw clenching to stop the tears from falling. He would end up crying, he sure of that, but he wouldn't let it be because of a simple touch. No, he wouldn't give the other the satisfaction of seeing him be that weak right now, no matter how much he felt like it. Instead, he shot Steve a simple glare, shaking his head, telling him without words that he wasn't ready for the contact. It was too soon, and he wasn't sure how he would be able to deal with it just yet.

"Let's go sit on the couch at least, alright? I.. I really do need to talk to you, to explain. And, I can't do it sitting up."

He simply nodded, letting the male lead the way through the house, following behind like a lost puppy. His eyes never strayed from the floor, just in front of his feet, afraid of where they would go. Afraid that if he started to look at the tattooed male in front of him, he wouldn't be able to look away. Hearing the springs of the couch give for a moment before going silent, he rounded the piece of furniture, sitting on the complete opposite end. To him, as much space as possible was a good thing. The silence settled around them, causing him to look up at the guy that had been haunting his dreams for the last week. He wanted to reach out and to hug him, to make sure he was real. To tell him everything would be okay and that he would keep him safe. He couldn't, though. "So, you wanted to talk.." The words left his mouth mumbled, but he didn't care right now.

"I do, I just.. Give me a minute, alright? I need to think, to get the words right."

A simple nod was all he gave in response, his hands moving to clasp around each other, squeezing, fingers wrapping around each other, knuckles going white from the pressure. He wanted to look at Steve and scream, to tell him that he had some nerve asking him to come here, even though he did. He also wanted to look at him and to tell him that he still loved him, and that he would be there no matter what. It went back to him not being able to hate the other. Why he couldn't hate him, he could only come up with love as the reason, but that wasn't good enough to him. He wanted to hate him so damn much, but he couldn't even find a bubble of hatred for the other inside of him.

"Alright, Dave, look. What I did.. I already said it was fucked up. It was worse than fucked up, I was a stupid jackass for doing that to you. I was just scared, and I know that isn't an excuse, but dammit, Tango, I love you. I never lied about that, and I never stopped, it's just.. The stress, it gets to me every now and then, and it just got to be too damned much. My mind started to run all these fucked up "What If's" through my head, and I couldn't stop thinking about them!"

Half-way through, he had looked up when the couch felt lighter, watching as Steve started to pace, his face turning slightly red, gesturing wildly with his hands. Something about it made him want to smile, but the rest of his mind pushed that down. His friend had always hated when he paced, or drummed his fingers. He had called it a "damned annoying habit". It was, he had to admit, but seeing him now somehow made it seem okay.

Swallowing heavily, though, he shook his head, his eyes once more falling down to his hands. "I know stress can be a hard thing to deal with, Steve, but you wouldn't have said that stuff if you didn't mean it. You said you couldn't do it anymore and that you were leaving your life behind. Something inside of you.." He stopped, raising one hand to wipe at his cheeks, the tears starting to finally fall. Dammit, he had been doing so well. He hated to do this, to cry in front of this guy, the tears showing just how weak he was. Well, dammit, he thought to himself, he had a right to be weak right now. His heart had been stomped on after all. Once more feeling the couch shift, he looked up, only to lean back slightly. Steve was sitting close, much too close for his liking right now. The hand that rested on the tops of his made him shaking his head again, his eyes closely as he slowly drew them back.

"No, I didn't mean it, I fucking promise, Dave. I was just, I wanted to get out in the easiest way possible. I figured if I told you I didn't want it, you wouldn't fight as hard as if I told you I was scared. I _don't_ want to be away from you. Look at me…"

When the fingers touched his chin, guiding his head up, he slowly opened his eyes, looking back at Steve's. A shudder went through his body as he felt the tears falling down his fact quicken, unable to stop them now as he looked at the man he loved. The one that hurt him so bad. He wanted to believe him, he really did, but how could he? He had left, hadn't looked back as he did it! If he didn't see the silent tears running down his face, he wouldn't have believed it was even hurting him. God dammit, why did he have to such a weak person, to hold his ground against the man that hurt him.

"You are everything to me. I have never loved someone as much as I love you, never wanted someone as much as you. No one has ever made me feel so.. So completely whole as you do, Tango. I was stupid, and scared, but I'm not now. Look, if you can't forgive me, I understand, but if you give me another chance, I will _never leave_ you again, do you understand? You are the ONLY one for me in this world. Without you, this life means nothing."

Something inside of him broke. 'So much for not being weak' his mind threw at him savagely as he pulled his knees up to his chest, resting his forehead on them, his arms wrapping around them. He felt his body shaking, but didn't care anymore. How beautiful those words sounded, but could he believe them? He wanted to, so bad, he knew he would never move on from the other, but was he ready for this again? When the hands pulled him forward, he didn't protest the touch this time, letting the slightly larger man pull him into his lap. He buried his head into the band t-shirt Steve wore, his arms finding their way around his neck. He let his tears fall, let his eyes cry out everything that he was feeling: all the hurt, the rejection, the pain of the last week. He let his eyes run dry, though his body continued to shake, only vaguely aware of the pats on his back, and soft "Shh" noises above his head.


End file.
